


Chi no Nioi (The smell of blood)

by vogue91



Category: 37-san de Isha ni Natta Boku
Genre: Character Death, Jealousy, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Not Canon Compliant, Smoking, Unrequited Love, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 15:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14059569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: “Unless you feel something for him, of course.” he added, then stared at the expression on his face, as to find confirmation to what he had just said.





	Chi no Nioi (The smell of blood)

Taniguchi looked at him almost disgusted.

When Niimi had come to the door, he had looked more than surprised to see him.

Without letting him in, he had told him that Kentaro was on shift.

 _Kentaro_ , he had said.

Taniguchi had felt a stab in the middle of his chest, but he had played nonchalant and had told him he wasn’t there to see Shimoda.

More surprised than before, Niimi had let him into the living room, sitting in front of him on the couch and staring at him, mocking, which was really making him feel nervous.

“So... why did you come here, Taniguchi-sensei?” he asked, grinning. “Do you have something you want to tell me?” he added then, grabbing the packet of cigarettes abandoned on the coffee table and lighting one up.

Atsushi wished he was anywhere else. He wished he could have left without telling him anything, pretending it was just a mistake.

But he had heard his whole life he should’ve taken a stand, that he should’ve fought to earn what he wanted, and now that he was finally doing it he wasn’t going to let his usual cowardice stop him.

He had kept quiet for months, staying in a corner and watching, and now he was tired and was going to make things clear, once and for all.

“I want to talk about Shimoda.” he said then, sitting on the edge of the chair, as if he was under examination.

He saw Niimi raising an eyebrow and rest his back against the couch, completely relaxed.

“So?” he asked, giving the cigarette another puff.

He hated the smell.

It was the smell he felt on Kentaro every morning.

It was the smell that told him that they had spent the past night together, it was the smell that evoked in him images that disgusted him.

“Do you really believe you can make him happy?” he asked point-blank, blushing right after.

The elder, as it was predictable, burst out laughing.

“What do you mean do I think I can make him happy? I think it’s his business, not yours. Isn’t it, Taniguchi?” he answered, without losing that derisive grin Atsushi detested so much.

He wasn’t bothered, not too much.

He hadn’t thought he would’ve taken him seriously, not right away.

“He’s not happy, you know that too. You... you want to sleep with him and that’s it. You don’t really care about him”

“So what?” Niimi replied, this time sincerely surprised more than mocking. “Kentaro knows what I want from him. And I don’t think he’s ever asked me to make him happy. He lets himself be fucked good, that’s all. It’s all I want from him and he’s okay with that. I still don’t see how this is any of your business, Taniguchi-sensei.” he said, hitting off the cigarette again, and Atsushi felt like throwing up.

Niimi stood up then, getting to him and resting his hands on the armrests of the chair, staring at him with a grin and an eyebrow raised.

“Unless you feel something for him, of course.” he added, then stared at the expression on his face, as to find confirmation to what he had just said.

The younger one chewed on his lip, blushing without staring back at him.

Was it really so obvious that he felt something for Shimoda?

And, anyway, why should he feel ashamed about  it?

There was no shame to feel for being in love with the same man that Niimi treated with such coldness.

“I’m just saying” he answered, low “that he doesn’t deserve it. He’d deserve for you to treat him better than someone to sleep with, because...”

Satoru snorted, sarcastic, turning and crushing the stub in an ashtray.

“Because he loves me, doesn’t he?” he said, looking back at him. “Because he’s in love with me and he’d do anything to please me, so it’s not fair that I treat him like a common whore. Is this what you wanted to say?” he asked, chuckling. “But it’s not my problem, nor yours. You’re just jealous because you know he could never love a failure like you. Because you don’t like the thought that he lets me do him, that he doesn’t even see you that way, that he can’t think of nothing that’s not me.” he said, getting more and more spiteful. “You’re truly pathetic.” he finished, going back to sit on the couch.

Atsushi kept still, looking at him, feeling his hands starting to shiver for his words and for what they meant.

It wasn’t pathetic to love someone.

It wasn’t pathetic loving him to the point of wanting to see him happy.

“You’re the pathetic one.” he hissed, standing up.

He felt his hands itching.

He wanted to hurt him, tearing that grin off his face, preventing him from opening his mouth again, because he had no right to humiliate him, when he was the one at fault.

Niimi sighed, annoyed, and stood back again.

When he got closer, Atsushi felt on him the same smell he felt on Kentaro, and once again he thought he was going to puke.

“I may also be the pathetic one.” he said, slowly. “But it doesn’t change the fact that he come back home to me every night, not to you. So, I don’t see what’s the point of keeping this up, Taguchi-sensei.”

It was a moment.

Atsushi turned to the coffee table, grabbing the heavy ashtray.

He could’ve said it was a different man’s hand the one that made it fall on Niimi’s forehead.

He could’ve said it was another person’s clothes those stained in blood, that it was another man that kept hitting the elder man’s skull with the same ashtray, hitting him so many times that he thought he was never going to stop.

And when he managed to and he got back to himself, he stared at that grotesque picture as if he hadn’t been the maker.

The couch was stained with blood. His clothes were stained with blood, Niimi’s lifeless body was stained with blood.

He felt like crying.

But he had finally take away that grin from his face, he had shut him up, and somehow he couldn’t help but feeling good.

He let the ashtray fall on the ground and he followed it, kneeling next to the doctor’s corpse.

Kentaro was going to hate him.

He was going to cry that death, and Atsushi knew already that he wasn’t going to stand it.

But it didn’t matter, in the end.

The smell of blood had covered that of smoke.

 


End file.
